


Of Amulets and Dragons: The Vandal

by MakjangCandy



Series: Of Amulets and Dragons [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Awkward Crush, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, First Impressions, First Love, First Meetings, Prequel, Romance, Secret Crush, Teen Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakjangCandy/pseuds/MakjangCandy
Summary: Cullen Rutherford, newly assigned at Kinloch Hold, is tasked to find the troublemaker behind the nightly vandalism of a certain statue of the Honorable Shartan. Upon finding the identity of this mysterious vandalizer, he struggles with his own convictions and newfound feelings for a certain mage.Prequel to Of Amulets and Dragons, but can be read without reading said fic. Oneshot Stand Alone fic. Written for the Dragon Age Fanfiction Discord server’s 2021 Valentine collection.
Relationships: Amell/Cullen Rutherford, Cullen Rutherford/Female Warden, Cullen Rutherford/Original Character(s), Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Female Amell/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Of Amulets and Dragons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2174016
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6
Collections: A Dragon Age Valentine's 2021





	Of Amulets and Dragons: The Vandal

There was something wrong with the Shartan statue that greeted its inmates right by the doors of Kinloch’s dining halls.

Passing apprentices, acolytes and Templar recruits stared curiously at it before moving on to whatever they were doing. It was not his stoic expression, the shape of his armor or the sword and shield that he brandished, but there something very different.

Cullen, heading over to join his friends for breakfast one morning, immediately saw what was wrong with it--or rather, what was right about it. The formidable Shartan, who previously had human-sized ears, now bore elven ears.

A slight smile wrinkled in his mouth. Clearly whoever did this was not only paying attention to their history lessons but also did a fine work of using magic to reshape marble.

“Sacrilege!” cried the Knight Commander behind him. “Blessed Andraste be damned to whoever vandalized this.”

The mages were immediately put to work to amend this. An enchanter was called to hew the delicate stone back into place without destroying the statue.

With this, the Knight Commander was satisfied again.

That is, until the next morning when the Mighty Shartan’s eleven ears returned. The unfortunate enchanter who was asked to reshape marble was yet again employed.

This rondo between the mysterious vandalizer and the Knight Commander’s enchanter kept on for about a week until the Knight Commander called Cullen to his office one afternoon.

“Rutherford!” the Knight Commander addressed him as soon as he entered. “I need you to find out whoever is responsible for this nightly tom-foolery. Report to me in the morning.”

Like any loyal soldier, he kept to his task. It was his first assignment, and well within three months on the post. So he waited until night fell, hiding behind one tall column in the shadows. 

After midnight, an hour went past. And then two hours. 

He began to think that no one would come, until he heard the patter of light steps in the darkness.

“It’s so early!” protested a male voice. “If you’re looking for trouble, can’t you do it a little less later? Why do you need my help anyway?”

“Shhhhhh!” chided a girl’s voice in a whisper. “I told you: I need someone to hold me up when I cast this spell. I can’t do it from below, and I can’t cast levitation while doing it. Marble requires a rather delicate touch.”

“Why couldn’t you ask Anders like those other nights?”

Anders? Cullen surmised. That apprentice mage reported to have more than thirty escape attempts? That Anders?

“Anders…” the girl answered hesitantly. “Is rather preoccupied tonight.”

“Karl again? This is getting rather serious. And I heard Karl is getting transferred to Kirkwall soon.”

“Just shut up and give me a boost, will you?!”

Cullen slowly peeked his head in time to see the male mage lift his friend up by his shoulders. He noticed that the little trouble maker was indeed very little--perhaps only a few feet taller than a dwarf. As she worked to shape Shartan’s head, her magic cast some light on her face--small serious dark eyes, and cherubic features framed by long dark hair.

She did not look like a troublemaker at all. In fact, he remembered that face--the one that belonged to that pretty apprentice who mostly lurked around the First Enchanter’s office. Another time, he spotted her near the library giving small treats and little notes to the younger acolytes.

Cullen also recognized the male mage--the lanky dark-haired mage suspected to be a blood mage. Jowan, they called him. A girl associating herself with such a mage would almost certainly draw suspicion to herself.

But Maker, what is her name?

His patience was soon rewarded when the mage Jowan let her down after finishing her spell. Jowan muttered while roughing up her hair, “If you had observed proper sleeping hours like a normal person and had grown up a little bit taller, you would not need my help, Solana.”

“Says the person who sleeps during Transfigurations,” Solana quipped. “How many times did Mother Elise catch you again?”

Their footsteps slowly faded into the darkness. Cullen rose from his hiding spot as soon as he knew they were gone.

Solana...So her name is Solana. Cullen repeated those three syllables in his head to commit it to memory. 

The truth was, he had been noticing her for a few months now. The first time he did was during the time when he was one of those tasked to monitor an afternoon class where she questioned and debated with the professor on the ethics of revising Chantry history. She did not give her professor an easy time. Ever since that afternoon, he had been on the lookout for those eyes that stared at her superiors defiantly.

Cullen did not like the idea of giving her name to the Knight Commander. But he vowed to do his duty and he did so in his report. Her name weighed on him as he imagined those who witnessed the Great Prophet’s suffering by fire, while he prayed.

She did not deserve to be punished for what she staunchly believed in.

Later in the day as she was called into the Knight Commander’s office, their voices could be heard beyond the Knight Commander’s large doors and through the hallway.

“But monuments are built to help us remember the stories that matter to us,” Solana’s voice argued from beyond the door. “If our professors teach us one thing and the images around us teach another, then what is the point of all this studying?!”

The Knight Commander’s voice thundered. “Your acts have disrespected this institution and the heroes of our faith!”

“You, ser, and your like are the ones who disrespect them! All the residents of this tower deserve the truth: no matter one’s race or social status they all fought for their freedom.”

With the First Enchanter’s intervention, luckily she was only given cleaning duties, and some work in the library for three months--forcing her to miss out on the rest of the acolytes’ activities. In the meantime, Cullen got promoted to a position guarding the Great Hall--one huge honor considering he only had been in Kinloch for a few months. Thus he seldom saw her save those times when she brushed and mopped the floors near him. 

In those times, he wished that he could avoid looking. After all, it was he who got her in that position in the first place. But he couldn’t.

Finally, he could not take it anymore. As soon his shift ended, he spotted her on her knees scrubbing the hallway around the apprentice quarters with a bucket, a brush and tattered rags. He grabbed a brush and started scrubbing with her. Even as he kept his helmet on, he could feel her eyes boring through him.

“It was you, wasn’t’ it?” she asked pointedly, throwing her rag on the floor. “The one who ratted me out?”

He did not answer.

Her dark eyes continued to examine him. “Did they give you something in return at least? A promotion? Choice food or accommodation? A good rotation?”

His hand stopped for a second before continuing.

“A good rotation eh?” Moving across the floor to him. “Ah well. If are really sorry, the least you can do is remove that helmet, tell me your name and apologize.”

No. He did not deserve her forgiveness.

She waited for a minute for him to do as she asked. When he did not, she kicked the pail across the hall, splattering dirty water everywhere on the floors, walls, the surrounding statues, and his armor.

“You know the worst thing about people like you?” Her bright face brimmed with anger. “Your Silence. Cowards like you do nothing or say nothing even when they know what’s right. It’s downright sickening!”

When he tried to scrub the splatter around him, she wrenched the brush off his hands. Getting up from her position, she gathered the pail and the dirty rags to her as he looked up.

“I can fix this floor later,” she scoffed. “But nothing can fix cowards and Maferath wanna-be’s like you!”

He wanted to reach out as she stormed away. But even that he could not do.

A coward. That was what he was. Just like she said.

The dirty water stained the skirt of his armor. No matter how much he tried, nothing would wash the guilt away.

Very late one evening again, he found her climbing the same statue that got her into trouble. This time she was alone.

He watched with much amusement as she struggled to lift herself up on Shartan’s shield arm. But she did manage some degree of success when she planted her foot at the base of the statue to push herself up.

Cullen shook his head. She was persistent at least.

With her short arms, she managed to climb a few inches when her hand slipped causing her to fall.

Cullen did not know what got him to where she was. As if by instinct, he rushed forwards and managed to catch her in his arms.

As he set her down to her feet, her dark eyes looked up to him, searching for a face behind the metal grills of his helmet. Her eyes blinked when they noticed the darker grey splatter stain on his otherwise pristine uniform. 

“Oh, it’s you,” she said as she pushed him away. “Have you come to tattle on me again? Because last time I remember it going really well for you--”

“No…” he lightly answered.

“Oh he speaks!” she replied mockingly. “Well, you can tell the Knight Commander that I’ve given up. At least for tonight.”

She gave him a dirty look before moving forward past him. But he did not want her to go.

“I do not want you to give up…” his voice called.

Her footsteps stopped a few meters behind him. When he turned, there was a lot of confusion in her eyes as she asked, “Why?”

“Perhaps there is another way...” he stated plainly. “One that would not catch the attention of the Knight Commander immediately. One that would perhaps be more permanent…”

She eyed him curiously as he gestured for him to follow her. There seemed to be a bit of hesitation there, but to Cullen’s relief she eventually did.

The dimly lit halls were almost deathly silent as most of the apprentices of that floor lay sleeping. Listening to his dear tormentor’s soft footfalls though, it suddenly occurred to him that he was alone with a mage. The strangest out of all of this was, he did not seem to mind.

Nothing about this girl is dangerous. Though he did not know her as well as he wanted, with the little he knew of her, she seemed to be that kind of person who ends up putting herself in danger just to prove her point.

Maker, how can there be a person this strong and at the same time this small and fragile? If duty compels him to dispel and annul her magic, he knew he could do so.

But somehow, her screaming like those whose magic he dispelled was something he never wanted to see. There was this part of him that wanted to shield her from all danger.

After all, this is why he joined the Order--to serve and protect people who believe the best in this world, and people who want to change this world for the better. 

Recent events made him question otherwise. But she made him remember all the prayers he submitted to the Maker at the night of his vigil, and all the vows he uttered in coming to the Maker’s service.

If there was anything he knew, he vowed to protect people like her.

Solana let out a frustrated sigh at a glimpse of the state of the library. A number of books lay scattered on the floor and lay open on the tables--books that several of the new acolytes left behind no doubt from that Chantry history class all acolytes were meant to take.

“Oh, seriously!” she shouted in frustration. “If this is your way of reminding me of the things I yet have to do, which by the way I got because of you, I just--”

“You said you wanted others to remember how the venerable Shartan fought for their freedom,” he argued, pointing to an open illustrated copy of Genetivi’s _History of the Chantry_ on one of the tables. Someone also conveniently left a quill and several ink bottles on the table. “Now is your chance…”

Her eyes narrowed at him before directing them to the piles of books on the table.

“Is this a trick?” she demanded. “Are you planning to turn me over to the Knight Commander again for some more credit or other promotion?”

“My post upstairs is set to begin right after the next bell,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Technically, I was never here.”

The bells rang right after he said those words, and he took that opportunity to wordlessly take his leave.

He did not have to look back for him to see how stunned she was.

That was how he left her.

He came back as soon as his post was over to see her asleep on the table. Her hand clutched the orphan quill and hovered over the illustrated image of Shartan now with elves’ ears drawn over the original illustration. Her head turned and he noticed there was ink on her nose.

He suppressed a chuckle. 

But there was still a large pile of books beside her.

This simply would not do.

So he took another book from the pile, opened it up to the page he needed, gently pried the quill from her small hand, dipped it in ink, and started drawing.

* * *

Solana woke on the library table with a bit of a start. She still had twenty more of those illustrated books to draw over.

What time is it?

A slight panic ensued when she realized by the bits of orange peeking out of the window that the bells would ring soon for dawn prayers.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It wasn’t enough time to finish everything and get out of the library before enchanters and their apprentices would start pouring in.

She flipped the next book, and realized that it had already been drawn in. And another. And another. 

Who did this? Could it be that Aspiring Mr. Maferath did actually help her considering that he was the only one that night who knew what she was doing?

She would never know for sure.

The bells rang as soon as that thought came. She ducked out of sight when she heard voices murmuring towards her.

It took several days for the acolytes to notice the changes to their reading material. Solana was brought in for some questions with the Knight Commander. But was quickly absolved of any suspicion when the quill and ink in question were the same ones found in the Knight Commander’s office.

Jowan gave his friend a smile the next time they were in their history seminar. When the professor directed his attention away from them, Jowan whispered in jest, “I never thought you could pull off such a feat in just one night! You must tell me what spell you used. Could be useful in a pinch…”

“It was magic,” Solana replied wistfully. “But I do think it was a different kind of magic…”

Before Solana could say anything, someone shushed them from a seat in front of them.

Her thoughts drifted to her mysterious helper. For days, she had examined all the templars, looking for someone with muddied uniforms, but sadly she could not find him.

Of course, it would make sense for whoever it was to be issued a new one. But that is quite a shame. 

She realized that whoever it was, she misjudged him. If she would find another opportunity, she would have wanted a friend underneath one of those armors and faces of hard steel.

Such a pity that she never got to see his face or know his name.

Little did she know that fate would offer her that opportunity one October afternoon during a lesson on magical creatures, and another involving a series of notes hidden between library shelves.

But that is a story for another time.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Happy Post-Valentines, and thank you so much for reading! In case you don’t know, this is a prequel fic for an MCiT story I am currently writing. While this is a stand alone story, the rest of what happens to Cullen and Solana are in that other story. For now, Happy Post-Valentines and thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Credit to @BECandCall for lore help, esp the Shartan statue idea!


End file.
